


The Ties That Bind Us

by Lyrae_Immortalis



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Comfort, Dom/sub, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Headspace, Honestly It's Everything Ed Needs, Internal Conflict, Introspection, Literal perfection, M/M, Masks, Memories, Metaphors, Non-Penetrative Sex, Oswald Is No Longer Mayor, Oswald Is The Softest Dom, Post Oswald's Return From The Dead, Referenced Past Childhood Abuse, Reflection, Supportive Oswald, Tags Are Hard, love and support
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-22
Updated: 2017-04-22
Packaged: 2018-10-22 13:01:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10697556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lyrae_Immortalis/pseuds/Lyrae_Immortalis
Summary: Ed's been struggling with becoming the Riddler after all the troubles it brought him. His suit lie tucked away but never forgotten. He itched to wear it again but was afraid of being consumed by the mania. That was until a gift from Oswald gave him some much needed control.





	The Ties That Bind Us

**Author's Note:**

> As with all my Ed fics this is more internalised as he has a lot of stuff to work though. I do hope you enjoy it.
> 
> I want to give a special shout out to my dear friend Flux for inspiring me to write this and for keeping me on track with her constant encouragement. Bless your heart <3

“Edward!”

 

The sound of Oswald's voice transversed the manor, signalling his arrival home. Ed frowned, Oswald sounded agitated and on edge, perhaps the errand he had to run, which was kept secret, didn't go to well, or perhaps his own negligence had been at fault as he lost himself in the printed words of a book. His answer soon came at the sound of his name being called once more. Not bothering to place a bookmark inside his novel, Ed carelessly threw it to the side as he immediately made his way to the Penguin’s side, skipping several steps in his haste. It did not bode well to keep Oswald waiting, he had seen the results of those actions played out before him on more than one occasion and although he doubted he would ever receive the same punishment, he didn't want to risk it, more so he didn't want to disappoint Oswald, not after everything they had been through.

 

Ed found him in the living room, seated on the couch with a small box in his lap. A frown marred Ed's face as he moved to sit beside him; his rear took perch on the edge of the plush cushion as his eyes flicked back and forth between the green hues of the Oswald's eyes and the viridescent ribbon tied around an unassuming white box.

 

“You brought me a gift?” Edward questioned with a smile as he searched Oswald's face for one of his tell tale signs that would point him in the right direction. Edward had spent many years studying Oswald Cobblepot, from Kingpin, to Mayor and Penguin; even when Ed was only a sinewy scientist with no clear path, he found direction in news clippings detailing the Gotham gangster. His internal compass drew him towards Oswald, towards his north, and polar point. Ed was intrigued by him, that was one thing that never changed. 

 

Edward chewed at the inside of his lip when barely a twitch or blink passed across Oswald's face. _ Was he wrong in his assumptions? _ The old play on words ran through his head,  _ to assume makes an ass out of you and me _ . The last thing Ed wanted to do was make Oswald out to be a fool, that was one thing he could  _ never  _ be. Oswald was intelligent, quick witted, and most importantly, the voice of reason in his life. Ed treasured him dearly, however sometimes he wished he had an inkling as to what Oswald was thinking. Oswald Cobblepot was a puzzle, one he had never quite figured out how to solve.

 

Oswald was so adept at controlling himself, every movement and thought carefully planned and thoroughly executed. Throughout the years Ed had known him, he had had the pleasure of watching Oswald evolve, he rarely missed a beat or fell below the curve and with his current position, it saw him controlling the paths and lines that transversed the city. Ed fiddled with the buttons on his sleeves as he gave Oswald a small smile.

 

Oswald may no longer be Mayor but that did not mean the he wasn't the true source of power in the corrupt city. Edward revered his control, Oswald hardly ever let it slip unless he was forced into a highly emotional state, then the seams broke and soon began the torrential downpour. There were times Ed thought himself and Oswald were so similar, actions and reflections mirrored but as time elapsed he saw their true nature and roles evolve. They weren't the same although they had similar attributes and ideals. Perhaps the easiest way of explaining it was that they were two sides of the same coin. One the powerful figurehead, and the other... the other is what Ed was. Their lines intersected and their value all too similar but there was no mistaking Oswald's charge.

 

Clearing his throat, Ed tried to speak again, only to find himself snapping his jaw shut at the sound of Oswald's voice. “No, it's  _ not  _ a riddle, Edward.” Oswald said with a small laugh. “You were right the first time.”  _ Was he that predictable? _ Oswald knew how to read him too well. 

 

Ed smiled and looked down at the box.  _ So it was a gift. _ His fingers tapped restlessly against his knees as he waited for Oswald to hand the present over however the only movement Oswald made was found in the shallow rise and fall of his chest. He was the image of composure. Where he sat poised and regally, Edward was jittery, he was the personification of a child’s rattle shaking violently back and forth, with no clear sign of respite from his turmoil.

 

Oswald continued staring and Ed was confused as to whether he should hold his gaze or avert his eyes. Despite spending almost every day with Oswald, his position wasn't always by his side. He had spend a majority of their shared time playing the role of his Chief of Staff, a relatively background character but times pushed forward and their station had now changed. Oswald was no longer Mayor and Ed had branded the city in his own way. He had his games to play... although lately he had kept himself locked in the manor, a verifiable recluse. To his own chagrin he was little more than a lavished pet waiting for his master’s return, so he could find purpose again.

 

It wasn’t something he minded, Ed was lost without him, floating in a submersion tank with no escape from his mind. Oswald offered him release, he flicked the hatches and drew him from his internal cage. 

 

Oswald's return from the dead had been momentous, amongst other things it reiterated all that Ed was, for without him he was a loose cannon. For several months the Riddler caused so much strife and mayhem the brought, not  _ only  _ the city, but Edward to his knees. There was no clear way to break out of that state, the Riddler headspace was dominating, a tidal wave brewing deeply under still waters until it rose forth and crashed over him, sweeping him along the endless depth. In the early days, when Ed first drew forth his persona from the recesses of his mind, he was aware that he was yet again, giving himself over to another power, he knew it would change him after all he had counted on that, however after a few days when sleep finally claimed him and he had a moment to reflect on his current movements and missions, Ed saw the destruction the Riddler had wreaked. He wanted to take pride in it but it didn’t feel like his achievements, and yet this is who he was forced to become, he would find that respect in the screams of fear and the burning coals in the aftermath of a blaze. 

 

Each morning Ed ignored the niggling notion of what lie ahead, as he donned the bright green threads and gleefully skipped his way throughout the streets of Gotham. From an outsider's perspective he may have appeared to be a character of careful notion, erratic in mannerisms and quips but singularly focused. The same could not be said for his internal demeanour, for inside the rampant swirls of his mind, the place Ed was locked in as his new persona took the wheel, was a chaotic darkness that swallowed him whole in its oppressiveness.

 

Without clear direction, something Ed had lost in the aftermath of his revenge, he was spiralling out of control. The notion frightened him, he could feel it, the hyperactive mania that took hold whenever he donned his suit and hat. It was akin to settling inside the skin of another because in that state he no longer felt like himself. Edward Nygma was pushed to the side to make way for the omnipresent Riddler. He tried to find ways to focus, to seize the reins of his tattered psyche but he found all too soon that little worked. He was overwritten, his program encoded deeply with a virus he could not rid himself of. Ed became a prisoner in his own mind, and soon his own personal experiment too; scientific journals were kept on hand recording how he felt whenever he finally made his way back to the surface. 

 

Edward tried to find a clean way to remain in the moment… and a few not so clean ways too although it went against his better judgement, however nothing worked, no physical stimulus or mental cue could draw him forth from the corners of his mind not until the day he entered Oswald's closed off bedroom. Ed could remember that moment clearly. The ornate handle felt like it seared its delicate carvings into his right palm, branding him. With a turn of the knob Edward pushed the door open, fully expecting the ghost of the past to materialise in the thin layers of dust that coated each surface but all that was whispered before him were memories dancing in the crepuscular rays. Ed traipsed his way into the room with a hesitant step. He shouldn’t be here, he was intruding on a holy space, a sacred ground someone like him should never step foot on. Oswald's room was the proverbial church where all Ed’s sins rang with clarity he wished he could ignore, yet like the bell that tolled before mass, Edward could not. The reminder unsettled him, Oswald was gone, never return again, what use was there ruminating on the thought.

 

Edward shuffled on his feet, he was in two minds, one wanting to draw him further into the room and one condemning him for forcing his presence on a place that once... that  _ still  _ belonged to  _ him. _ This was Oswald's sanctuary and although Ed had once been permitted to enter whenever he liked with his recent actions he shouldn't have even entered the manor, yet alone Oswald’s bedroom, however here he was, drawn forth by an invisible force, a magnet searching for its opposite half in order to balance itself out. Oswald wasn't around to help him any longer, he cut that tie, severed that thread, leaving behind a detached being and a waterlogged body on the bed of the bay. Edward fidgeted with his watch, as he gave one last glance around before turning on his heel to flee, only to pause as a flash of purple caught his eye.

 

Edward was surprised he hadn't noticed it before, although that was hard to do in a room that appeared all too monotonous.  _ Was the house in mourning too? _ With a slow pace Ed inched closer to the small strip of fabric. Hanging over the top of the full length mirror was one of Oswald's ties. It was plain compared to many of his other extravagant options yet the purple was so blinding, so eye catching, Ed couldn't help but reach out and pull it from its final resting place.

 

_ Perhaps this would work,  _ Ed thought as he ran his fingers over the blended fabric, pinching it from one end to the other. Had Oswald set this out for the following morning? Was it waiting here for his return just as Ed was too. Edward wound the strip around his fist, holding it tight in his clenched hand and scowled. Oswald wouldn't return, he had attested to that. The echo’s of the gunshot rang so clear whenever he thought of the former Mayor, Ed was concerned he had travelled back in time.

 

Although the physicality of his mentor was no longer in place, Ed hoped, as he looked down at the strip, that this could be a stand in as the anchor point he was looking for. 

 

Shifting his gaze. Ed stared into the mirror. It wasn't something he often did, why would he want to peer into the same dark eyes he shared with his father, he didn't want the reminder of his past abuse so blatantly thrown in his face on a daily basis. More often than not Ed kept his gaze downcast, peering only at the threads encasing his body. Today he looked, he saw the monster he was behind the clear lenses. Not long ago the beast inside of him was but a mirrored image, one taunting but locked away, that man was no longer caged. He let him loose, let him run rampant, let him take  _ control _ .

 

Edward regarded himself in the reflected surface as he tore his own tie from his neck, replacing it with Oswald’s uncoiled one. With well practiced hands he looped the fabric into an intricate knot, one more fitting for its prior owner than himself. Ed smoothed the tie, paying careful attention to the subtle stitching before looking back up in the mirror taking in his appearance with a tilt of his head.  _ Wrong _ . It’s all wrong. With haste Ed removed the tie from around his neck and tossed it to the bed. What right did he have touching, let alone wearing something that once belonged to Oswald, something that defined his very character. With a huff, Ed made for the exit, each step he took saw the locks in his mind slide back into place sealing away resurfacing memories. Reminders of the past had no place in his present. He had to keep moving, like the wings on a hummingbird he couldn’t stop for fear it would mean his own demise, however before he could exit the room Ed found himself rushing back to the bed to pick up the purple tie, bringing along with him the last viable connection with Oswald he had.

 

~~~

 

The tie worked… _ for the most part _ . Ed was alert, sound in a number of his decisions although the results were not always to his choosing. Free will was often difficult to marker and with the Riddler trying to taunt... no,  _ entice  _ him, he struggled more than he cared to admit. Whenever Ed felt a strong mental surge, he would wind Oswald’s tie around his hand, other times he’d fasten it to his wrist, doing anything he could to keep him close. Soon enough Ed found a rather peaceful coexistence with the Riddler, working in tandem towards the crux of their plans. He should have known it wouldn't last too long. He should have countered for the events to come.

 

A slip of the mind saw Ed forgetting his safety net, leaving the Riddler unchained and unrestrained to which he used to his advantage. Destruction for chaos' sake was not the vision Ed wanted to share with the world. There had to be meaning, there  _ needed  _ to be for otherwise what point was there. People wouldn't learn, they wouldn't see clarity. They wouldn't  _ understand _ .

 

The Riddler played his games and Edward was swept along with him as the crazed glee washed over him, muting all that was once Edward Nygma. He laughed and cheered as frightful eyes and piercing screams painted art only he could appreciate, as he danced from one event to the next, leaving his mark on the world in the most brutal of ways.

 

The mindset of the Riddler was overwhelming and all too powerful. Ed struggled daily. How could he find direction inside a storm? A geomagnetic pull confounded his internal compass, pointing the needle in false direction before erratically flicking to the next in disturbed daily variations. Navigation, a purpose that gave meaning to the compass, was a process aimed at control and guidance from departure to destination. Ed had a path he wanted to follow, the Riddler had another.

 

Ed envisioned himself as that red tipped pin spinning erratically, spiralling out of control. He was torn in so many directions; fate and desire took a hold of him, threatening to pull him apart whilst he stood stationary with his feet planted firmly on a single spot. The needle didn't stop, with so many options available it could not pinpoint the best route to take. Perhaps that was because there wasn't a path he should follow. Could he create new roads in preexisting cities? Ed's consciousness was split between two opposing forces as he watched events play out before him through eyes that weren't his own. That continued for two days until the bright flash of purple drew his attention. The purple, a sign of royalty, position and power, drew Edward forth with an outstretched hand. Ed felt sick under the heavy beat of his heart as he closed the distance between him and his polar point. He needed his lifeline, but as soon as his fingers met the fabric Ed's hand was battered away and he came face to face with Oswald's piercing eyes and stoic face.

 

The moment hadn’t been an easy one to comprehend. Ed had believed Oswald dead and although elation filled every fibre of his being, he also felt a deep remorse. Guilt had became Ed's gravity, with waves strong enough that brought him to his knees before the Penguin. Like a disobedient soldier Ed hung his head ready to accept his fate, the punishment for his crimes, yet Oswald did the unexpected. He picked him up, brushed off his shoulders and took him home.

 

Although the following few months were tumultuous, Ed was grateful that Oswald hadn't left his side since his grand return. Little by little they worked through their unresolved issues. It was a tangled mess of emotions, a web which should be catching to the eye was riddled with holes and small tears. However like the spider, they didn't leave it in its sorry state. Together Ed, alongside Oswald closed the gasps as they reflected on their actions and what lie ahead. Their previous station had expanded to make room for a rather codependent relationship of sorts.  _ You need me, Edward Nygma, just as I need you. You can't have one without the other. _ After all this time, after his despicable actions, his misguided revenge and assassination attempt, Oswald had returned. He returned to him. Ed was once so blinded by his moral sense of justice that he could not perceive the reality of Oswald's words. He may have failed in his revenge but being back by Oswald's side was the answer to every one of Ed's unspoken wishes. Ed needed him, for more than just companionship.

 

Despite their newfound happiness Ed was saddened the day the Penguin discovered his theft of one of his ties, for it was swiftly removed from his possession.

 

~~~

 

"Edward, why do you have this?" Oswald asked, dangling the purple strip from a single digit.   _ Where did he find that? Wasn’t it packed away? _ Ed's answer came in a series of stammers as he struggled to find the right wording.

 

"There is an explanation of course, you see…” Ed chewed at his nails as he tried to ignore Oswald's raised brow.  _ Think, Edward. _ “I... am not certain. You were gone, this was a way of keeping you with me, to keep me sane." Ed hands shifted, he could never keep them still. He fiddled with the ends of his sleeve as he tried to focus on something other than Oswald's green eyes. Oswald had the uncanny ability to read people, to understand them in a way Ed could not. Who knew what he saw inside of him, could he see the monster, was Oswald afraid?

 

"Well I am here now, Edward. I'm not going anywhere." Oswald said with a smile. “Do you mind if I take it back? It was one of my favourites.” Ed nodded his approval… his _acceptance_ of Oswald's wish and watched him hobble away with the strip in hand. That was the last Edward saw of the tie, but Oswald was right, why did he need such a thing when he had its wearer beside him.

 

~~~

 

Their blossoming relationship took some adjustment. Change never came easy to Ed, it was something thrust upon him, forcing him to bend to its will. Like the changing seasons of time, Ed was the proverbial tree, constantly adapting to the outside stimulus, morphing as time cycled through. If he had to pick a word to describe himself it would be protean; ever-changing and unstable. Unlike Oswald he couldn't ride the waves, he tumbled beneath them as that small slither of glass which was battered against rocks and sand altering its original design. Adapt or die had quickly become Ed's long standing mantra.

 

As much as Ed loved his newfound connection with Oswald, he struggled with it more than he cared to admit. His position was one he fought against accepting his entire life. Men were supposed to be strong, even in solidarity, they were suppose to be tough and secure, requiring no one but themselves to support them.  _ Man up _ was something shouted at Ed as he was beaten down. Oswald helped him, helped him realise that power can be found in any position, that he wasn't acting against his masculinity because he wished to submit to domination.

 

No matter how many times this was conveyed, Ed still had to battle his pre-programmed nature. He was too predisposed to guarding himself, shielding away parts even he didn't want to acknowledge for fear of what he would unearth. Oswald was patient and accepted him wholly but it wasn't always easy. Many tears were shed in a short period of time, enough to fill several beakers should Ed have felt the need to collect them. Ed knew how difficult he was to deal with, that fact had been reiterated to him his entire life, by family,  _ friends _ , and coworkers, they forced him to see himself as meak, unmanly and undesirable, however the nights Ed spent in Oswald's arms, with a hand cascading through his hair made it all worth it. Oswald took care of him in a way no other had done before. 

  
  


~~~

 

“Edward?” Memories often had a mind of their own, surfacing at the most inopportune times, battering the unguarded mind in an onslaught of past recollections. Often they went unnoticed, flitting away with the next gust of wind, other times they were all consuming, and inescapable. Ed's memories were conflicting, the turmoil of the past few years surfaced in an instant, distracting him from his current setting. Oswald’s fingers were rubbing small soothing circles onto the back on his hand as he peered over at him with concern shining in his eyes.  _ How long was he left waiting?  _ Ed had almost no concept of time in these moments, his mind worked to overpower every thought and feeling as he was submerged.

 

Ed flipped his hand over, picked up Oswald’s and gave it a squeeze, along sharing an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry Oswald, I’ll try not to let it happen again. You were saying?”

 

Oswald shook his head, seemingly exasperated but the loving smile on his face reiterated nothing but acceptance of Ed's previous state. It wasn't anything Oswald hadn't seen before, and it was bound to happen time and time again as that was the way Edward was created, he was flawed, yet those aspects were one of the many parts of himself that were treasured by his partner.

 

"Here, take a look," Oswald said as he shifted the box over into Ed's lap. Releasing Oswald's hand, Ed gave him a nod before turning his attention to his gift. Slowly he pulled away the green ribbon, watching as its loops curled in on each other before slipping out the other side in a straight line. The metallic green was so similar to the shimmering fabric on his riddler suit, it could have been grafted from the very thing.  _ Was that intentional? _ Ed had been avoiding the Riddler for the past month. The suit hung listlessly in the back of his closet, seemingly forgotten yet it still called to be worn. Despite being empty, it held its own singular purpose. Ed itched to wear it again, to fulfil his destiny but fear held him back. What use was it following his path, if his was consumed by the mania? He was supposed to be level headed and calculative, those were his defining traits but the Riddler headspace took away his control, thrusting him into endless depths he struggled to be free of.

 

Lifting the lid off the box, Ed gasped and dropped the ribbon as his fingers fluttered over the nestled fabric of Oswald's purple tie. “You… you're giving it back?” he asked with a raise of his head, meeting the eyes of his partner. Oswald offered him a small smile in acknowledgement.

 

“I am, but it's more than that, Edward.” Oswald’s hand’s met Ed’s own over the top of the tie, his green eyes didn’t shift from his face for a second.  _ This was important then, _ Ed reasoned calculating Oswald’s touch, his stare and posture. “When I first saw you had this I didn't realize its significance, not until we started working together as Penguin and Riddler.”

 

Ed tensed, shoulders seizing and jaw tightening. To anyone other than Oswald, the shift would have went by unnoticed but Oswald held the keys to his very being, he could never hope to hide anything from him. Ed shuffled closer to his partner’s side, their knees brushed together, it was but an additional small touch but it helped to relax him.  _ When did he get so dependant? _ Probably when he started losing control.

 

“I know this is a hard topic as of late but we need to discuss it, okay?” Ed nodded as his leg began to bounce free of it’s own accord, in a repeated jackhammer that matched the beat of his heart. Oswald only ever did what was best for him, it was essential that he listened to what was to come, so with a deep breath Ed ignored the niggling notion in the back of his mind that told him to flee.

 

“When we started working together in those roles, I saw the way  _ he  _ took over and how you subverted, it is why I have been a little reluctant to leave you on your own. Now, I'm not saying this is something that you can't do on your own, you are more than clever and capable enough to do anything you set your mind to, but the way you inadvertently fixed and fiddled with my ties, or pinched at the purple cuffs on my coats in highly intense situations, forced me to realize that you were grounding yourself. I don’t mind being that for you Edward, I love that you seek me out as a source of comfort and reassurance, but there will be times when we are unable to be together." There was a pause at the end of Oswald's words, one long enough to allow them to settle.

 

"I had this altered for you. Several months ago you told me it helped you focus in my absence, I am hoping it can do so again." Oswald unfurled the tie, laying it flat across his hands, two slits in the purple fabric peered up at him eliciting a gasp from Edward's throat. The back of Ed’s hand flew to his mouth and he was overly aware of each thud of his heart.

 

It extended far past the colour purple, it was Oswald that grounded him. His tie was once all that he had, Ed thought he had lost it for good. Oswald did say it was one of his favourites after all, and yet he had transformed it into something for him to wear... as the  _ Riddler _ . Despite his jubilation, concern weighed heavy inside of him.

 

“Oswald, I… I don’t know if I can do this." Ed began shakily. "I’m not me when I am  _ him _ . I lose all sense of my very person and although it provides me with an outlet and a sense of purpose, I worry about being able to find my way back home again.” Ed ran his hands over his face, slipping his fingers underneath his glasses to press at his eyes turning turning the darkness into a rippling red. “I don’t want to be lost, not again Oswald. I can’t do that, I can’t,” he mumbled into his palms.

 

An arm was wound around Ed's shoulders, drawing him into Oswald's side. Dropping his hands, Ed would one around Oswald's waist as the other came to rest near the other's brocade tie. He traced the violet accents as a pair of lips were pressed to his forehead.

 

“Edward you are lost,” Oswald spoke softly into his hairline. “You’re tearing yourself in two. Lives cannot be lived split. You need to be the Riddler for he is a part of you, yet you continue to reject him. It’s not healthy.” Ed released a shuddered breath. When had he ever been healthy, there was always something niggling in the depths of him trying to claw it’s way out. The truth behind Oswald’s words was not unknown to him, no matter how hard he tried to block it from his mind. Ed had spent many nights lying beside Oswald thinking over his predicament, his mind turning as yet another night of sleep passed him by. To be whole was something he craved. He was growing evermore exhausted with the never ending struggle.

 

“Here, look closely.” Oswald said, drawing his attention as he brought the slimmer end of the tie… no mask into focus, showing off a small embroidered umbrella.  _ Oswald’s signature mark. _ With dancing digits, Ed reached forward to trace over the delicate stitching.

 

“Is this…?” Ed trailed off with misty eyes, knowing that Oswald would pick up the tail end of his intended question. He raised himself to a seated position and cradled his new possession in his hands.

 

“It is, Edward. I want all of Gotham, no, the entire world to know that you are mine, but more importantly I need you to understand that you won't be lost again. I will be with you, helping you, guiding your way. I have faith in you, Edward.”

 

Oswalds tie, his mark. Edward would he wearing Oswald’s mark in public. That notion thrilled him, to so openly display his connection in a subtle way was titillating. It was a special, a physical sign of their relationship, one cultivated for only the two of them. Oswald owned him, Edward knew this, he accepted and loved their arrangement. It seemed as though he had been waiting his entire life to find someone like Oswald who would care for him, control him, every part of him, in ways he could not.

 

Unable to help himself, Ed pulled Oswald into a kiss, conveying every ounce of thanks he could. His body was filled with little tremors, anxiousness and elation mixing together as his lips parted and pressed.

 

Oswald's hand rested below his ear, his thumb caressing Ed's cheek delicately as they parted. “I love you,” Ed whispered. With eyes closed as he dropped his forehead to Oswald's, sharing every passing breath, sharing his very soul and accepting Oswald's in return. In the corner of the room Ed could hear the slow passing of time but felt no anxiousness for it.

 

They sat like that, holding each other close for several moments until Oswald spoke.  _ Get dressed. _ It was a clear command, one Ed knew he couldn't back out of. In spite of himself he still tensed.  He knew this was coming, the sets of events Oswald put in motion could  _ only  _ play out in this manner.

 

He needed to be the Riddler, he had already accepted him once, much to his detriment. The Riddler was a part of his very being but the thought of being that unchained, with no leash to restrain him and keep him in line, was a constant source of worry, but he had the mask now so maybe this could work. Finding a small amount of determination Ed rose from the chair and gave Oswald a nod. Oswald was doing this because it was in Ed’s best interests, he had to believe that… no he  _ did  _ believe that. Oswald had yet to lead him astray and although the man could be firm in the face of some of his decisions, Ed took to relying on that strength.

 

Carrying his gift upstairs, Ed placed it on the dresser before heading into the bathroom. He smiled as he picked up the small canister that contained the contact lenses. He should have known Oswald bought them for a reason.  _ How long has he been planning this? _ It wasn’t always him place to question Oswald, all he was required to do was have faith that the man knew what he was doing. It was pertinent that he trust Oswald, for in the times when he could not trust himself Oswald became his anchor, his ground to which he fell when he could hold himself up no longer.

 

The nerves turned his stomach, as he stared at himself in the mirror. These were the last few moments of peace he had before he would don his suit and persona. A tight ball settled deep inside of him, squeezing everything together, slowly twisting him into a frayed piece of rope. It wasn't the suit… it  _ was _ , but it was more than that. It was the way his voice would morph and his soul would grow cold, it was the feeling of fresh blood cascading through his fingertips and the shrill screams of fear. A spike… no a rotary blade which's very purpose was designed to tear people apart was circling inside the base of his stomach.  _ Snap out of it, Edward. Oswald believes in you, you can do this. _ Ed filled his hands with water and splashed his face, running the cool liquid over the back of his neck and under his collar as he peered back in the mirror.  _ You can do this. _

 

Discarding his glasses, Ed slid in the lenses and gave a fleeting glance to his face to make sure they were setted correctly. He had even more trouble holding his stare like this, free from the barrier his glasses provided him.  _ Maybe a change in colour would help, it would certainly be a point of difference from his father.  _ Ed pushed that thought to the side, he would have time to ruminate over it later for now he had to prepare himself for what lie ahead. Scattered thoughts would only lead to callous mistakes and he had made enough of those to last a lifetime.

 

Edward strolled back into the bedroom as he off slipped his current jacket ready to toss it aside only to freeze when he saw Oswald standing centre room with the Riddler suit in hand. His caressed the lapels delicately before moving to pinch at the shoulder. Ed couldn't understand how such a look of heavy admiration could be shared with something so tainted. Perhaps it was the tailoring Oswald admired. Ed knew that was a foolish notion, his own aversions to his riddled state were not Oswald's own.

 

“You always did look handsome in green,” Oswald said as he handed the outfit over and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Get dressed, Ed. I'll be right here whilst you do.”

 

Doing as his partner said, Ed changed, donning his bright green threads. Oswald watched every movement from his position on the bed, regarding him with a casual eye that  _ almost _ brought a blush to Ed's face. Almost. Ed looked down at himself running over his mental checklist, triple checking all the elements of his outfit were in place. Feeling somewhat satisfied, Ed made his way back to Oswald’s side, picking up the transformed tie on the way.

 

“Will you… please?” Ed asked with raised brows as he dropped to his knees beside the bed, presenting the mask to Oswald in outstretched hands. He needed Oswald to do this for him, another mark of his ownership and control. He craved it. The feeling struck Ed deeper now compared to any prior moment they had shared. This was the piece he was missing, the missing link in his construction, left free for many years waiting for Oswald to tie the two of them together. This was how he would be made whole, for that was not something he could do alone.

 

Oswald moved, rising off the pillows and he slotted himself before him, not once questioning his position; he took hold of the purple strip, and peered down at him. Ed’s body was vibrating as he placed his empty hands to the floor beside his knees.

 

The look in Oswald’s eyes was almost pensive, he stared at him stoic and silent, a recluse in his own mind, as his thumbs moved to caress the bridge of the mask. There were a thousand questions burning in Ed’s mind yet he could not grasp a single one. Each thought flew by in matter of mere milliseconds as he counted his breaths forcing himself to stay in the present. It was too easy to lose himself in this position, and the headiness of the act to follow deepened every emotion. Ed would not rush this, the moment was too profound, a cataclysmic event of momentous proportions culminating in a single act. For the first time ever, he would not be leaving the manor as Edward Nygma “The Riddler”, no instead he would stroll out the doors marked as Oswald’s.

 

A hand was cascaded through Ed’s hair. Oswald’s firm fingers scratching at his scalp drawing a sigh from between Ed’s lips. How was he once so blind to what Oswald meant to him, their connection was undeniable from the moment they first crossed paths. Oswald was the light to his dark. Ed vowed to never let foolish thoughts draw him away from Oswald’s side again.

 

As the mask fell over his eyes, Ed found it hard to breathe, not because it was restricting or caging him, it was quite the opposite, it set him free. With laboured breath and a tingle running down his spine, Ed bowed his head and closed his eyes burning every sensation into memory. There were events in life Ed would rather not remember, his traumatic childhood, the very existence of his father and most importantly  _ his _ … the Riddler’s chaotic acts of genocide, however in all that he was, he would not ever wish to forget his attempted assassination of Oswald, for without that, their lives may have played out in an entirely different manner. Together they had made it out of the dark now found themselves in a moment of near overwhelming intensity. If the ability to have this scene etched into his very soul was available Ed would not give it a second thought. He trusted Oswald with his mind, body and soul. He trusted him with everything he was, or ever could be.

 

As the cord was drawn taut and secured, Ed panted. His chest rose and fell at a rapid rate and his body buzzed as though he was experiencing the greatest of highs. He wanted nothing more than to beg Oswald to take him, to strip his suit from his body, to let him stay home, yet he knew his pleas would fall on deaf ears.

 

Ed held his position, taking in the weight of the mask, the symbol of Oswald's possession, until a hand beneath his jaw encouraged him to raise his head. Ed eyelids felt heavy as he cracked them open to peer into those of his partner's. Oswald's pupils were dilated, green had given way to black. Ed was pleased to see that he wasn't the only one affected by their exchange. Oswald ducked forward and pressed a soft kiss to the mask, before dropping a ghost of one on Ed’s lips too. Ed licked his lips, trying to chase Oswald's flavour, wishing he had more than a brief press but before he could speak a hand was offered to raise him from his knees.

 

Ed took it immediately and Oswald followed suit, both rising from their positions. They stood, eyes flicking up and down each other's bodies until Oswald hooked a hand around the back of Ed's neck, surged up on his toes and crashed their lips together. Ed gasped and wound an arm around Oswald's waist following the direction he set and drew his body close. His other hand moved to cradle the back of Oswald's head, carding his fingers through uneven raven locks. Ed's body was already vibrating from receiving his mask but now it was electrified. There was that gravitational pull to Oswald, Ed could not bring himself to move away.

 

"Oh gosh, Oswald  _ please...  _ I—" Ed trailed off with a whimper as a kiss was pressed to his neck, maybe he would get his wish, Oswald was clearly in the same state as he was, he could feel the brush of arousal press periodically against his leg.

 

"I know Ed, I know," Oswald breathed against his neck lavishing it in a few more kisses before pulling away to fixed the rumpled state of Ed's tie.  _ Wait... what? _ "You don't know how much I want you too, especially right now with you wearing my mark, but this was done for a reason," Oswald said as he tapped the mask. Ed deflated, shoulders dropping slightly as he stared at an invisible spot on the floor. He would give anything to not go through with what lie ahead, but that was the whole point. He needed to conquer his fear.

 

With a slight pout, Ed attended to his clothing, attempting to smooth out the slightly wrinkled fabric before deeming it  _ acceptable.  _ Usually the thought of leaving the house in such a rumpled state appalled him, however today Ed read each little line as another mark from Oswald, one etched into the Riddler himself.

 

"I love you," Ed whispered as he pulled Oswald into his arms, holding him close to his heart, running a hand up and down his back.

 

"And I love you, Edward." Oswald's arms encircled Ed's waist and squeezed tightly. Ed didn't want to let go either, although he knew he was required to. "You know I'll be here if you need me," Oswald said as he drew back from the hug to run a hand across Ed's cheek. "I am proud of you for taking this step. I know it must be difficult and if you find it too much of a struggle there is no shame in returning home." Ed closed his eyes and leant into Oswald's touch, pressing a kiss to his palm.

 

"Thank you, Oswald," Ed said with conviction then quickly departed. If he didn't leave now, he wasn't sure he ever would.

 

~~~

 

There were times when one must address their baser instincts, the animalistic drive that called only for destruction and violence. Edward was no stranger to those feelings, they had crept forth all too often in his life. He had both witnessed and experienced them in various forms. In childhood Ed rationalised his father’s  _ outbursts _ and suppressed his own, in young adulthood he entertained his thoughts as he stood over countless dead bodies in the morgue and as he moved into adulthood it grew more severe. 

 

Ed pulled the  _ sleeping _ body out of the car, only to stop and pause when his chest tightened. The darkness he had hoped had disappeared for good, reared it’s ugly head. It crept forward, clouding the edges of his vision with such foreboding that Ed felt as though he was being pursued by Death himself.  _ Focus, Edward. You can do this, you made it this far already. _ With a deep breath he continued, he was on a time limit after all.

 

Kicking the door to the warehouse open, Ed hissed. The air was bitter, the stale taste of uncycled breath and metallic barrels that littered one of the several abandoned warehouses now coated his tongue. With a frown marring his face, Ed dragged the unconscious body across the pavement, thankful that he had made a clean getaway, not that it was  _ that _ difficult. Distraction  _ always _ provided the perfect means for escape no matter what he had to tow along with him.

 

“Say what you will about the Gotham city, but at least there is always a new place to conduct business,” Ed said although his comments went unanswered. Gotham may have once been a prosperous city but it was now akin to the sediment in the river; heavy, chemical based, and polluted.

 

With one last heave, Ed maneuvered the man into one of the many chairs and began to restrain him. The relaxant that coursed through his veins  _ should _ have still been in effect but for some unascertained reason his play piece shifted through the levels of consciousness faster than he had calculated. A rigid fist met Edward's jaw, knocking his hat off his head before a set of fingers clawed at his face, pulling down the corner of his mask. 

 

“No,” Ed roared as he backhanded his victim, acting purely on instinct, rendering him unconscious. The mask wasn't his to touch, his hands shouldn't be anywhere near it. It was Oswald's. Ed was Oswald’s. No ingrate should ever touch something so personal to the two of them. 

 

Ed could feel his control slipping as he scowled down at the slumped heap. Flashes of strewn body parts painted red flew before him, altering his reality.  _ It’s not real. It’s not! _ Ed stumbled backwards, tripping over his heels in a rush to remove himself from the situation. He didn’t want this, not now, he knew what would come of it.  _ No! No no  _ **_no_ ** _. _ The pull was slow and gradual which was worse as it only worked to increase his fear. Ed turned his head left and right, looking for Oswald but he wasn’t there, he was on alone. A nervous laugh bubbled in his chest, slipping free before Edward could snap his mouth shut. He couldn’t do this, why did Oswald think he could. It was such a foolish notion.

 

There was a flash in the corner of Edward’s eye as he spun around on the spot like a dog chasing its tail, looking for what was following him but with each shift of his head he found nothing.  _ What now? _ Ed wracked his brain for a solution, attempting to ground himself by clutching at the straws of his earlier plans but they were held just out of reach.  _ Concentrate Edward. _

 

Ed ran his hand over the back of his head as he closed his eyes. His fingers hit the knot.  _ Oh _ . His eyes snapped open and he moved to pick up the end of his mask, focusing on the small symbol of Oswald's power. The umbrella, a symbol of power and dignity but also of shelter, and protection. There was not a more symbolistic emblem for Oswald…  _ Oswald _ . Oswald was here with him. He wasn’t alone. Oswald was here. 

 

Ed quickly righted his mask, setting it back in place and breathed a sigh of relief. It wasn’t his identity he was concerned over. The mask, Oswald's tie and mark meant more to him than his very name. Ed would gladly toss aside his name should that be called upon, after all identity meant nothing without someone to recognise and acknowledge it.

 

_ Lives cannot be lived split… you  _ **_need_ ** _ to be the Riddler. _ Oswald’s earlier words rang with clarity as Ed stroked the embroidery with his thumb. Was that why Oswald sent him out here, forcing him, no  _ encouraging  _ him into a situation where he would have to face his reality? How to be the Riddler, had once been the question. How to be free, was the following one. Now all Ed asked himself was how to be whole. The Riddler was  _ fun _ , if fun was synonymous to wretched tribulation, but the promise, the mere thought of being  _ whole _ , of playing his games and using his knowledge in a way  _ he  _ designed was enough of a reason for Edward to try again. 

 

With closed eyes Ed opened himself up, letting the Riddler flow into him through sieved holes, traversing old lines. There was an overwhelming amalgamation when the two halves of his mind joined in unison. Like coal that when compressed under brute force, Ed was transformed into a new state of being. The thundering ripples of an internal supernova zapped it’s way through his body, settling in every extremity as he became alight with power. 

 

Straightening with a smirk, the Riddler ran a hand down his chest as he peered over at the man in the chair. “Oh, you’re sleeping again. Well that’s hardly fun.” With a roll of his eyes he set to finishing his preparations, all that was required was the right mindset and time just flew by. Ed smiled. This was the fun he was searching for. The last knot was secured and the new trinkets he bestowed glinted under the spotlight overhead. Like sparkling little jewels they shone brightly, a detail only he could appreciate. 

 

“Come now, quit squirming. You don’t want this to end too quickly do you?” he said to the mass fastened to the chair as he began to rouse. With a raised brow and a smile plastered to his face, Ed watched the man flick through several emotions as he tested his binds. Fear was setting in quickly for his guest. “If your  _ friend's _ get this right then you will be free to go, if not, well tick... tock...  _ boom _ .” Ed cackled as he surveyed his handiwork one last time, clapping twice after deeming it  _ perfect _ .

 

“ _ What? _ Who? Why are you doing this?”  _ Truth time. _ The truth was important, a value that had been instilled upon Ed since he was young. If one told the truth, would they get in trouble? Would the punishment be as severe? Yes. Because some people didn't like to hear it, and others rarely believed it. Telling the truth didn't stop Ed from being a criminal, sometimes the best way to deceive someone was with blatant honesty. Would they dismiss it because of his station or would the thought ruminate in their mind driving them to question everything? 

 

“Well,” Ed said as he sat on the a separate chair with his legs spread wide to accommodate the backrest. “The truth of the matter is that you are important… not in the way that your life is meaningful but as a tool, a way to  _ encourage  _ others to do as I wish. Do you follow?” Two heartbeats passed before Ed ended the silence that had begun to grow between them. “No? Well that's alright, you don't need to understand, after all this isn't about you.”

 

“What do you want from me?” he new friend whispered as he surveyed his surroundings, head whipping back and forth until Ed whistled drawing his gaze.  _ That’s better, _ after all he did require an enraptured audience, if distraction was at play then they would have no hope of guessing his riddle.

 

“I am given and I am taken, 

I was there at your first breath.

You didn't ask for me,

But I will follow you till your death. What am I?”

 

Ed strummed his fingers over the back of the chair as he waited for his answer. He could almost hear the rusty cogs  _ attempting _ to cycle in the other man’s mind.  _ The simpleton. _

 

“You know how fun it is to watch you mind turn. A simple play on words and you are stumped. Should we try something simpler… would that work well for you?” Ed asked as he tapped his chin three times. “Okay then.” 

 

“What do you use every single day, but never pay for? 

What is truly yours but came from somewhere else? 

What is very personal but shared with everyone?”

 

“Any answers jumping out at you here or am I just talking to myself? Honestly that was hardly even a riddle. I am  _ almost _ disappointed in myself.” Ed rolled his eyes before standing. He walked behind the man in the chair and slapped his hands down onto his shoulders. “It’s your  _ name  _ I need Mr. Johnson… well more importantly your signature and a few others but trivialities are of little importance here. All you need to do is sit and look  _ somewhat _ pretty, luring in the little fishies you work with. I can take it from there.”

 

~~~

 

Ed threw the entry doors of the manor open and strolled inside with a bounce in his step, seeking out the man that would make him feel whole again. The arrival of the three other men forced Ed to work harder, faster, smarter. It spread open those sieved holes and threw him out of balance. By the skin of his teeth, Ed, for the most part, managed to hold on, to resist the rush of all consuming power and over developed prose. 

 

Ed had barely traipsed through the foyer when Oswald rounded the corner with a quickened pace, forcing Ed to freeze on the spot as he was pinned by green eyes.  _ Oswald always did have pretty eyes. _ Ed laughed and stepped forward, with a drop of his hat he picked up his partner’s hand and pressed a kiss to the back of his palm as he stared up at him. 

 

“My king,” Ed drawled as he raised from his position with an ever present smile plastered on his face. Despite his outwardly over exuberant nature his internal demeanour was not fairing as well. Ed needed Oswald, needed him in a way he could not reiterate in this very moment. For although his words were spoken happily, and seemingly relaxed, Ed was anything but. Oswald would help him, he would understand, he had before.

 

“Well aren’t you going to welcome me home, Oswald?” The Riddler teased as he wrapped an arm around the Penguin’s waist, drawing him flush against his body. “I thought you’d be happy to see me.” He whispered against the shell of Oswald’s ear before the smaller man pulled out of his embrace.

 

“Answer me this… who are you?” Oswald asked with a tilt of his head and narrowed eyed. There was a crease between his brows, one Edward couldn’t help but focus one until fingers were snapped in his face drawing his attention.  _ Question, right _ .

 

“You know who I am, Ozzie,” the Riddler bit back cheekily stepping forward to place his arms around Oswald again but was held back with a palm pressed firmly against his chest.

 

“Bedroom. Now, Edward!” 

 

“Testy,” Ed whispered under his breath as he moved to do what was asked of him. “Don’t keep me waiting then, my liege.” Ed knew Oswald understood the meaning behind his words, the symbolism and cry for help. It was dangerous being like this, there was no telling when he would tip over and although he was yet to black out into full mania he relied on Oswald to draw him back from the edge.

 

Oswald didn’t say anything as he entered the room, he limped around removing his coat and threw over the chair in the corner, before loosening his tie. Ed’s hands itched to correct it, to fix the perfect image before him, however they travelled to the edge of his mask instead.

 

“Come back to me, Edward,” Oswald whispered as the green jacket was removed, tossed to the side along with his hat.  _ How did he get here so quickly? _ “I’ve got you.”

 

Ed could do little more than stand there, letting Oswald tend to his needs, as he stared almost impassively at his partner.

 

With a gentle hand Ed was encouraged down onto the crisp sheets covering the bed, his shirt has been stripped from his body, in fact all this clothes were, even down to the socks and shoes on his feet.  _ When did that happen?  _ The only article of clothing still on Edward’s body was his mask, Oswald’s mark, the symbol of their bond and his control.

 

Oswald crawled on top of him as he drew a sheet over their bodies, skin met skin causing Ed to frown.  _ How did he miss all of this? _ He ran a hand over his face and he tried to reconnect with his mind. If he could black out as Oswald undressed him did that mean his time spent as the Riddler hadn’t been as clean as he hoped. Were those men… the remaining ones, still alive? Did he even get the signatures he required. Ed looked over towards the small pile of discarded clothes. He couldn’t see any blood but that didn’t mean there wasn’t any.

 

Two fingers were placed on Ed’s cheek, drawing his gaze from the tangled mess of strewn clothes,  _ someone should really fix that soon _ , forcing him to look into the eyes of his partner. 

 

“Who are you?” The question was but a whisper, spoken softly against Ed’s lips. Words were almost an unknown entity to him in this state, he struggled to form a single thought. Oswald waited, silent yet omnipresent. Ed was overly aware of him and the weight settled over his chest along with the warmth that seeped into him.

 

“I…  _ yours _ ,” Ed answered croakily whilst his hands fiddled with the sheet over the top of Oswald’s body, tracing the seams.

 

“Who are you?” Oswald said a little firmer as he ran his digits over Ed’s jaw. 

 

“Edward. Yours.” That was the answer Oswald was waiting for, Ed took in the slight nod and the small smile shared with him as the grandest display of praise. 

 

“Welcome back,” Oswald said as he pressed as soft kiss to Ed’s lips. “Do you feel ready to take your mask off?” Ed nodded blinking rapidly but when Oswald rose off his chest a blind panic raced through him. His hands shot out grabbing onto Oswald’s forearms over the top of the sheet, halting his movements.  _ Where was he going? _ Ed wasn’t ready. He needed him. 

 

“No,” he shouted and Oswald froze, turning his head back in his direction. Ed’s body was vibrating with internal shivers, ones he couldn’t figure out how to control, he never had control. Oswald was his control, he couldn’t move away yet, he couldn’t leave him. Not like this.  _ No no  _ **_no_ ** _ you can’t, you  _ **_can’t_ ** _ leave me alone when I’m like this, please I need your arms around me, I need you — _ “Please Oswald,” Ed choked out prompting the other to settle back down over his chest as he ran his hand through Ed’s hair. The weight helped, it made him feel grounded, secure, he wasn’t floating away, Oswald had him.

 

“Don’t leave me. Please, don’t leave me.” Tears pricked in Ed’s eyes, as thoughts of detachment and isolation struck fear into his heart. His mind was stuck on repeat, a record scratching, cycling the last few words over and over again. 

 

“Hey… shhh, I’m not going anywhere anytime soon. I’ll stay here as long as you need me too.” Oswald dropped himself down and nestled his head beside Ed’s own as he hugged him tightly. “You have done so well, Edward. I can’t even begin to tell you how proud I am of you. You made your way home to me  _ and  _ you had enough control to call for the assistance you needed. I know you feel weak right now, but Ed… you are so strong and immensely brave.” Kisses were pressed onto Ed’s cheek, nose and lips. Almost every available surface of his face was dusted by Oswald’s soft lips. The tears Ed had been  _ attempting _ to hold back spilled over, clouding his contacts, causing them to shift from their position slightly. 

 

“Please Oswald…” Ed croaked.

 

“Tell me what you need, Edward.”

 

“You… I need you.  _ Please… _ ” Ed’s tears continued to fall dampening his mask. 

 

Oswald answered his plea with a kiss, just a small peck before he shifted his body to accommodate for his smaller frame. Edward waited until Oswald was settled before he placed his hands on him. He wouldn't cage the bird, they were supposed to be free, not locked into place.  _ They were clean right? _ Ed thought to himself as his palms met the bare skin of Oswald’s back. Had he had a chance to wash them, to rid them of his sins? That shouldn't be spread to Oswald. Not his own poison. Oswald was already too close to his mind, he would not let it seep through to his body too. Ed ripped his hands off of Oswald’s body, his arms were bent at his sides as he fought with his mind as to what to do next but all he could focus on was the way his right hand shook more than his left.

 

“It’s okay, Edward,” Oswald’s breath fanned his face as one of his hands was lifted and brought to Oswald’s mouth. Ed’s fingertips were kissed tenderly before they were slotted in between the empty spaces of Oswald’s own. “You’re clean,” was whispered against his knuckles. “There is nothing that you can do that will harm me,” was pressed against the back of Ed’s hand along with several soft kisses.

 

A puzzle, that was all that people were, they just needed solving. Ed knew where his own piece fit, it was alongside Oswald’s, just like their finger slotted together so did their entire lifes. They were tethered together. Lifting his free hand he tentatively touched Oswald’s cheek before gaining confidence. Oswald did say he was clean after all. Wet lips were pressed against Ed’s palm before moving to the muscle at the base of his thumb. Ed stroked the dusting of pink on Oswald’s cheek before shifting his hand, carding it through raven locks as he pulled Oswald forward to meet his lips.

 

The following kiss was deeper. Oswald took the lead, tongue swirling around his own before tracing the roof of Edward’s mouth.  _ Wine _ . Oswald had been drinking as he waited for his return.  _ How long was he away? _ Ed whimpered chasing the flavour, wanting to find the one that was solely Oswald underneath. 

 

The soft caress of lips drew a shuddered intake of breath from Ed as he cried silently into Oswald’s mouth. Noses bumped and a hand came to cradle Ed’s cheek. Oswald’s thumb stroked along the base of the mask sending a small shudder through Ed's body. There was no rush to their movements, this wasn’t some heated tryst based solely on gratification, this was about love, care and reassurance however Ed needed something more.

 

“Oswald p-please make me yours again. I don’t want to be  _ him _ , not right now. Only yours, always yours.”

 

“I know, Edward. I’ve got you, you don’t have to worry any longer.” Oswald dropped a peck to the mask, the action stirred previous thoughts and feelings. With a firm hand plastered to the middle of Oswald's back, Ed drew him close, trying to recapture the passionate moment they shared earlier that day, the one he didn't want to leave. He wouldn't let this one get away from him if he could help it.

 

It didn't take long for Oswald to turn his pleas into moans. A few deep kisses and Ed's body became an odd mixture of raelaxed nd pleasurably tense. Safety and security was something Ed often associated with Oswald. Lying beneath him, protected by his frame, feeding on the taste of his breath as he accepted every touch, Ed could not dream of a better reality. He handed over the reigns to his very being, letting Oswald rewrite him anyway he wished.

 

" _ Oswald _ ," Ed breathed as he fisted his hand into Oswald's hair when the spot below his ear was nipped. "More, please." A soft laughter vibrated the skin of Ed's neck before Oswald took heed of his suggestion and surged forward with purpose.

 

_ Oh.  _ Ed's eyes snapped open as a gasp was drawn from his throat. He was hard, something he hadn’t realised until Oswald shifted above him. Through hooded eyes Ed could see the twitch in the corner of Oswald’s mouth as he pulled back, he always did love hearing the visceral proof of his touch.

 

Ed frowned as Oswald paused his ministrations to stare down at him. Ed wanted to  _ beg  _ him to continue, to not leave him hanging, suspended between two perpetual points but as he gazed up at his complaint died on his tongue. Ed's jaw slackened, he could not keep the look of awe off of his face, not with the halo of light shining behind Oswald head. He looked ethereal, he  _ always _ did, even on the darkened streets of Gotham. Lifting a hand, Ed cascaded it through Oswald's locks, watching the light flicker between the strands. "You're beautiful," he blurted.

 

Oswald smiled down at him, pink cheeks and piercing green eyes; orbs through which Ed could pinpoint the emotional depth swirling behind the curled black lashes.

 

With a squeeze to their joined hands Oswald rocked again, this time with purpose as he pushing Ed down into the mattress beneath. He never did anything by half measures. Oswald was always three steps ahead, even in the bedroom. Ed's breath hitched and he struggled to keep his eyes open; almost every thought and reaction was recentered to the lower half of his body.  

 

“Oh god, Oswald...” Ed moaned with his head tipped back into the plush pillows beneath him. He lifted his hips rutting into Oswald as he breathed a steady stream of groans into the heated air around them. Ed didn't want this moment to end. 

 

Oswald mouthed his neck and across his cheek, small presses that served to cloud Ed’s mind on top of every other stimulation.

 

“You look rather beautiful in my colour, Edward. I can’t even tell you what it was like to put that mask on you, to watch you walk out the door marked as my own.” Oswald squeezed their clasped hands, using it as a leverage point to assist his movements. Ed was almost sure he could come by the sound of his voice alone, especially when his words were spoken so breathlessly.

 

“Tell me, please Oswald. I-  _ ah _ \- I need to know… please,  _ please _ ,” Ed begged as he filled the air with heated moans. His mask meant so much to him, he needed to know if Oswald felt the same. 

 

“God, Edward,” Oswald's said as he rutted down into him, their movements shifting with ease as their bodies grew slick. “You’re wearing my mark,  _ my mark _ , the only other person who has used that symbol is myself. C-can you grasp how personal that is? The significance? There is no mistaking that shade of purple, Edward.” 

 

Ed whimpered. He wanted everyone to know about his tie to Oswald, the man he would gladly submit to for the rest of his life, the man that kept him safe and whole. Ed couldn’t breath, even though his chest rose and fell rapidly. “ _ More _ . K-keep talking.” There was that shudder again, the one that predicted his building release.  _ Not yet, he couldn’t finish yet. _

 

Ed brought his free hand to his mouth, biting into his skin as he shut his watering eyes. The sensory overload was quickly becoming too much and yet it was not enough. 

 

Oswald thrust again and Ed whined into his hand. That friction, the slow drag of Oswald’s hips, his hand clasped in Ed’s own as he rocked down with conviction. Ed started to feel tingly, dancing along the edge of disconnecting for the second time that day. At least was much more pleasurable than the first instance. There was that buzzing in the back of Ed’s mind, the pleasurable kind, that grew louder the longer their coupling lasted. 

 

“You left the house w-with the mark of my posession wrapped around your head on clear display to the world,” Oswald revealed as he lifted one of Ed’s legs over his hips, the other quickly followed.

 

Edward’s breath was stolen when a wet hand wrapped- _wet?_ _When had he..._ “Oh, O-Oswald” Ed moaned and bared his throat as his hand moved. Oswald, ever the opportunist, took advantage of his position to nip at the skin of his neck, prompting Ed to tilt back further, offering all that he was.

 

“You are tied to me, Edward.” Oswald was getting close too. Ed took notice of that growl in his voice, it that prompted a heavy shiver to run rampant down his spine. “You’re mine. I won’t let you slip away, Ed. Not again.” 

 

Ed blinked through his tears as emotion and physical pleasure battered his body and mind. Oswald always knew what to say to tear him apart, ridding him of his internal strain before reconstructing him again. Ed couldn’t answer, not articulately, the only sounds that escaped his throat were strangled gasps.

 

“Come on, Ed. You can let go.” Ed could barely hear his words over the pounding of his heart and distant screams. That shudder was back with a vengeance. Ed couldn’t think, his free hand clawed at Oswald’s shoulder, back and arm, whilst his other clasped Oswald’s tightly. “I have you.”

 

Ed’s hips jerked as he thrust wantonly into Oswald’s hand, finally coming undone. His release was overwhelming, almost as though a thousand severed electric wires had just spread their charge throughout every nerve ending. Ed’s body was alive, running rampant, jittery, until he began drifting away languidly. His last thoughts were on the splashes that fell over his stomach and the hold on Oswald’s hand.  _ Oswald had him. _

 

~~~

 

Ed blinked and rubbed at his eyes, coaxing them into focus. He felt weak, thoroughly exhausting, but it was not unwelcomed.  The all too familiar haze of his previous state began to dissipate allowing Ed access to his mind and body once more. 

 

“Ed?” Green eyes were the first thing Ed noticed as he regarded the man beside him. Green eyes and a small smile. Oswald looked tired.  _ How long had he taken to resurface? _ The small lines on his face looked deeper however despite his weary state there was heavy relief to be found there.  _ Oswald had been worried. _

 

“Hi Oswald,” Ed said with a lazy smile as he lifted his fingers to run across his partner’s cheek, wanting to show him that all was well, that he could rest now. Oswald placed a hand over his own and leant into his touch with a sigh.  _ How did he get so lucky? _ Ed’s chest tightened as he brushed away a smear of mascara from the corner of Oswald’s eye. He was so sweet, gentle, he knew what he needed, he always knew.  _ How? _ How wasn’t Oswald fazed by any of this, by what he had become? Rolling to his side Ed wrapped an arm around Oswald’s waist and buried his head in his chest as his tears quickly brewed and spilled.  _ Emotional overload, _ his brain tried to reason but Ed was not in the right state to listen.

 

Never missing his mark, Oswald drew him close tangling their legs together until they were more one being, compared to two separate entities. Soft shushing sounds were pressed into Ed’s forehead and a hand scratched at the small hairs on the nape of his neck and trailed down his back. Ed cried silently for reasons he couldn't quite name, his tears collected at the edge of the mask, dampening it once more. Where there was once thought swirling in his mind was now washed away in an onslaught of emotion.

 

“I’m sorry,” Ed croaked only to be cut short with a small kiss to his forehead and a tight squeeze. 

 

“You have  _ nothing _ to be sorry for, Edward. Today has been momentous for you, your whole life has been. I am  _ so  _ proud of every step you take and I will always be here here to support you with each one.” Ed exhaled shakily. From the moment he first met Oswald he had been drawn by his pull; Oswald drew his focus and guided his way like no other had before. Even in times of weakness, whether internal or external, Ed knew he could rely on Oswald’s strength to hold him together, because sometimes that was all he had. 

 

Minutes passed, at least Ed thought they were minutes. It could have been hours for all he knew. He listened to the passing of time which was marked by the inhales and exhales Oswald made, along with every beat of his heart. Little by little Ed’s tears subsided and the shudders died. He finally could breathe again. 

 

“Do you think you can you sit up for me?” Oswald asked softly as he stroked his back. Ed hesitated, he would much rather stay put. He was warm and comfortable, despite the pain throbbing in his head. “It won’t be for long. You can sleep soon.” T _ here was no getting out of this then.  _ With a nod and a kiss over Oswald’s heart, Ed shuffled into an upright position and propped up himself against the headboard.

 

With a lazy tilt of his head, Ed peered at his partner as he moved to sit beside him. Oswald looked tired. His sunken eyes were even more prominent under the dark smears of his make up. Digging into the draw to his right, Ed pulled a wet wipe free and tended to Oswald’s face, removing the smudges, unveiling the man underneath. The soft sprinkling of freckles were revealed like stars in the night’s sky, each one more dazzling than the next. Ed could spend forever assisting Oswald like this, tending to his needs, showing him all the care and affection he was bestowed on a daily basis. 

 

Ed only ever wished to be useful, to be valued, and treasured. Helping people made him happy, Ed loved to be of service, especially to people that appreciated and acknowledged his hard work and dedication. He had tried to gain the approval of those he worked with at the GCPD but he was shunned, in Arkham things were a little better but nothing could compare to what Oswald gave him. It was insurmountable. An ever growing pile of praise which spread that warm feelings throughout Ed’s body at the sight of Oswald’s smile. It was everything he ever asked for.

 

Ed was so enraptured with everything that Oswald was. His strength and drive, how he always found the energy to move forward. It was awe inspiring. Even on the days when Oswald’s knee left him in agony or his past memories tore his heart to shreds, Oswald persevered. Outside of their home he was the image of composure; strong, determined, infallible. There wasn’t a spot of weakness he hadn’t counted for. 

 

Inside the walls of the manor it was different, neither of them had to pretend to be anything but who they were. Personas were discarded like the constructed layers of their suits. Together, they could be who they were. Both broken, damaged men who found that together they could be whole. Sooner than he would have liked, his task was complete leaving Oswald’s face bare but still as handsome as ever. Swiping the bridge of Oswald’s nose once more, Ed smiled and discarded the wipe before bowing his head in silent gesture. 

 

It was a simple act, but it held a colossal weight. The baring of souls was not often easy. Ed wanted Oswald to remove his mask just as he did for him, this was the way it was meant to be. The tie was Oswald’s, even after its transformation, it was was his, just as Ed was too. Every part of him belonged to Oswald Cobblepot. With silent breath, Oswald slowly untied the strands as he worked to unmask him, showing the same level of care he did earlier. His fingers brushed the nape of Ed’s neck and trailed through his curled mess of hair as the fabric was drawn away. 

 

Lifting his chin, Ed ran his digits over the bridge of his nose and across his cheeks tracing the empty space. His face felt cold, barren,  _ exposed _ . He was comfortable in his mask, it was a security net of sorts, like a blanket or toy was for a small child but despite the slight uneasiness he felt, Ed knew he didn’t require it, not with Oswald. He didn’t need to hide himself nor use the tie as a form of control, not here. Why trade in for an alternative when he had the very person who completed him, who grounded and loved him seated beside him. He could be free with Oswald. There were no restrictions, no ideals he had to fit, Ed only ever had to be himself. 

 

Propping himself up on his knees, Oswald kissed him, recentering his flighty thoughts with each press of his lips. Ed sighed and relaxed under his mouth, moving his hand to cup the back of Oswald’s neck. When their lips parted and Oswald shuffled away, Ed removed his contacts and tossed them aside. He didn’t need to keep them, Oswald would have ordered more, of that he was certain. He never did anything in half measures after all.

 

Ed’s world blurred slightly as he blinked away the feeling of the contacts. It was the first time he had ever worn such a thing, and although he didn’t mind them he could never pass up his glasses. The barrier they provided him was necessary, it was a point of difference between him and his father, and something instilled in his very character. They were the only thing he kept from his past life, the connection to the man he once was. Appearances may change, lines on the face would eventually deepen, and clothes and hair could be altered often to fit a new image but the glasses,  _ the glasses _ were one thing he could never part with, not for long.

 

Ed watched the unfocused image of Oswald return to his side, his vision clearing a little as he stepped closer. The sounds of his shuffles, the drag of his foot across the hardwood floors was even more apparent in the silence of the room. Ed wished Oswald would rest and relax beside him rather than tending to his every need but he couldn’t deny that he loved the attentiveness he received. Oswald sat down beside him and handed him a glass of water. “Drink up, you need it. I doubt you’ve had anything all day.”

 

“You’re too good to me,” Ed whispered as he took a small sip before rummaging in the draw for his painkillers. The pain in his head was aggravating but not unexpected, thankfully sleep would come soon and by morning the worst of it should have passed. Swallowing down the tablets and half the cup of water, Ed placed it to the side and drew Oswald into his arms. He was still feeling a little tender after his ordeals. 

 

For the past month or so Ed had lived a rather solitary life, leaving the house was not something he cared to do as he’d preferred to spend his time in the comforts of a space that breathed Oswald. The manor was a safe haven for them both. Ed felt comfortable here but people weren’t meant to be caged even within their own minds. Oswald had noticed his demeanour, his internal shift. He answered his silent cry for help, and yet again gave him directive, a path to follow. Ed knew that by being by his side the red pin would never become a spiralling mess again, his destination was firmly set, he would always find his way back home.

 

“Do you want your glasses?” Oswald asked with a yawn that ended with a small squeak.

 

“No. I just want you. Can we sleep now?”

 

Oswald chuckled and flicked the lights before climbing back in beside him. “Yes Ed, we can.”

 

Ed tucked himself into Oswald’s side and placed his head on his chest as lead filled his bones. It was a common position for them, the steady beat of Oswald’s heart was the sweetest of lullabies, a note of his vitality and strength, a personalised song created for his ears only. Ed lie silently, finding serenity in the fall and rise of Oswald’s chest, listening to the way his breaths deepened as sleep took hold. 

 

Using the last of his dwindling energy, Ed trailed his hand over Oswald’s torso, mapping his scars as he waited for the night to claim him too. Many stories could be told from the marks on one’s body. Ed's told the tale of his upbringing, his back lined with buckled divots and a few scarred stripes. It was okay, he didn’t have to look at them, he didn’t have to be reminded of them on a daily basis. The same could not be said for Oswald. Every step he took told a tale of his abuse but also his perseverance to move forward. The scars on his torso told a darker tale. Ed traced his finger over the uneven scar on Oswald’s stomach, the one he forced on him. A mark of anger and misguided revenge. It had paled over the past few months but it would never fade. As awful as it sounded, Ed didn’t want it to. He needed to see the truth of his actions no matter how much it pained him. Ed swiped his fingers over the old wound once more before Oswald’s hand clapped down on his own. 

 

“I can hear you thinking, Ed.”

 

“Oh… sorry.” Ed wrapped his arm around Oswald’s waist and shifted closer.  “Hey, Oswald?”

 

A soft hum was Oswald’s only response.

 

“I forgot to tell you that I procured your club today,” Ed muttered lazily, sleep was quickly becoming his reality and after the day he had, Ed was surprised he made it out of the depths of his mind. Twice in one day, for two opposing reasons… it was  _ almost  _ too much. 

 

“... _ what? _ ” Ed exhaled a breath of laughter. Oswald was tired too. Ed loved the moments when Oswald’s over articulate nature shifted into sleepy mumbles. It was endearing, and it was a side of the Penguin only he was privy too.

“The piece of real estate you had your eyes on, the one that Mr. Johnson and co. owned, it's yours now.” Ed explained. “It took some fiddling but I managed to  _ persuade  _ the owners to hand over the deed. I know you have been looking for a new front, a base of operations and you-” Ed’s sentence was cut off with a yawn, “well it’s yours now. Iceberg Lounge.”

 

Oswald drew him close and brushed Ed’s forehead with a kiss. “I love you. You are incredible, Edward. You never stop surprising me.” The proclamation was executed with a firm squeeze that made all Ed’s troubles, all his issues with himself and the Riddler more than worth it. He could be useful, he had proved that. He wasn't so damaged that he couldn’t find a way to support Oswald with his endeavours.  The Riddler could be a good thing after all. “I cannot wait to hear all about how you managed such a feat but first, we both need to sleep. Goodnight, Ed.”

 

“Goodnight, Oswald.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> *passes out alongside the boys* This was exhausting to write but immensely fun too. 
> 
> My tumblr: [riddlerbird.tumblr.com](url)
> 
> Fan art: [http://selene-at-your-service.tumblr.com/post/159455611885/the-riddler-commissioned-by-riddlerbird-3](url)


End file.
